


vigilance vivid

by nap-hime (nap_princess)



Category: Angel's Egg | Tenshi no Tamago (1985)
Genre: Gen, Theology, mentions of Noah's Ark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25150291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/nap-hime
Summary: "Who are you?”— boy, girl
Relationships: Boy & Girl
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	vigilance vivid

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Is Angel's Egg an Overlooked Masterpiece? - Analyzed and Explained](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/645319) by Chris Stuckmann. 
  * Inspired by [Jesus lived in a motel room](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/645322) by HYUKOH(혁오). 



**vigilance vivid**

* * *

He is a stranger to this strange land, as all things are strangers to him. He roams the wastelands; seeking for a long-forgotten purpose.

He meets a little girl who is as pale as a dove. Her hair and skin are lily white, and she bleeds little colour in this dull, grey city. He noticed her for her pale features, and then the swell she holds under her loose pink dress.

* * *

The fisherman chase after shadows. They throw their spears and harpoons haphazardly. They do not consider anyone or anything, leaving a wake of breakage and shattered glass; as one does with blind fate.

She fears them, trembling, her tiny hands grasping at his shirt. She hides under his cloak. He does not blink, does not flinch.

* * *

"Please," She begs as the winds howls, breezing through her hair and the long grassy fields. "Don't do anything to my egg. Promise me."

He stares at her in return.

He makes no reply.

He makes no such promises.

* * *

She runs ahead of him; her long hair fanning out behind her, shoeless and quiet. She leads him through labyrinths, up spiralling staircases and through rivers of water. Fossils, skeletons and glass bottles decorate her home; an abandoned ark that’s decaying and infested with creeping vines.

They do not talk much — most of the time, they do not talk at all — but when they do speak, it is about fish and birds and trees from a faraway memory.

He's forgotten where he's come from, where he's been, why his hands are bandaged or if his hands are wounded. Forgotten the origins of the clothes on his back. Forgotten the material of the cloak that keeps him warm, the boots that are worn and the reason why he carries this cross-like construction on his shoulders.

He does not think she is real, but he does not think he himself is either. They can both be dead or alive or a figment of his imagination or a memory from a long dream; but for now, he is satisfied; following her and her egg.

* * *

He rests often, with his back against a sturdy surface and his mind whirling with thoughts. Everything is foreign to him, as his own identity. Nothing is familiar, still — he trudges on and on and on.

But in his small bursts of intermission, he dreams of a floating orb in the sky; grand with stone statues and whistles that scream.

* * *

It rains and it pours, and it rains and it pours, and it drowns those who think of standing under its merciless beatings.

"Who are you?" She asks, her voice barely a whisper. 

He attempts a smile, his dark eyes swallowing her curiosity. He asks her back, "Who are you?"

Neither has an answer, but both are content.

Her eyes are closing. She will sleep soon.

He stays wide awake.

* * *

He takes what is most precious to her while she is in deep slumber, while she is defenceless. He does not stay nor wait for her to awaken; does not stay to hear her scream or cry; does not stay to watch her fall into a ravine and beneath the chasm's waters.

He does not watch for her rebirth.

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Idk what this is. But as I write this at 2am, with many theology and religious tabs open in the background, I can hear my neighbours through paper-thin walls. They are really going at it.
> 
> — 9 July 2020


End file.
